


I've Shown You Great Clemency

by AerisSerris



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Camarilla ending, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Implied Unrequited Feelings, Post-Canon, Trials, casual destruction of VTM lore, probably everyone's OOC and no way this would happen in-game but eh, written at 1 in the morning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 05:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerisSerris/pseuds/AerisSerris
Summary: Even after everything, Catherine still doesn't want LaCroix dead.





	I've Shown You Great Clemency

**Author's Note:**

> Ah... what can I say? This probably is very self-indulgent and doesn't fit in well with VTM lore, and I know it. But LaCroix's one of my favorites, and I've always enjoyed the relationship between him and the PC, no matter how troubling it is.
> 
> Part of my canon for my main character, the Brujah lady Catherine McCullough.

“You must be the Innocent Harlequin. But maybe not as innocent now?” The woman waiting at the end of the hall said, her head tilted to the side. Catherine was positive the woman was scrutinizing her from underneath the biker goggles, and even more positive that this was Capricia Atkins, the Malkavian Strauss sent her to talk to. Catherine’s experience with Malkavians was still relatively limited; the Primogen Alistair Grout had been dead before she could actually speak with the man, and she had to assume that Therese and Jeanette’s case wasn’t the standard for the clan everywhere. If every Malkavian had a split personality, then wouldn’t Mercurio have told her what the Baron of Santa Monica was from the start?

 

“Innocent Harlequin?” Catherine frowned, lifting an eyebrow as she looked at the Malkavian. “I don’t get it.”

 

The woman simply laughed, tapping her forehead. “A day will come when understanding opens the door. Or it won’t. And now it’s time to open another door. The Jester Prince awaits the Court of Miracles, and the Wizard King wants you to be his guide.”

 

Wizard King almost assuredly meant Strauss, Catherine decided. “The Jester Prince? You mean LaCroix?”

 

“He tried to be a ventriloquist, but he was only good for dancing on the strings himself. Poor, poor Jester Prince…” She mused. “This form is Capricia Atkins.”

 

That question was answered, at least. “So, Strauss is the Wizard King, LaCroix is the Jester Prince, and I’m the…” Catherine trailed off, blue-grey eyes widening. “Innocent Harlequin. Harlequins… and jesters…”

 

“See? Not as innocent anymore.” Capricia smiled. “Your name needs to change. And the Jester needs to see the court. The Wizard King believes that no one is more suited to escort him than the Harlequin.” She nodded her head to the door behind her. “He’s waiting at the end of the line.”

 

Catherine frowned, but nodded anyway. “Well… thank you, Capricia.”

 

A creepy smile was the only reply Catherine would get from the Malkavian, and the Brujah figured their conversation was over for now. Capricia seemed nice, if a bit odd - but then, she  _ was _ Malkavian. Or a Toreador that was  _ really _ obsessed with poetic speaking.

 

Beyond the door lay a hallway, with cell block doors along the walls. Here was where the prisoners of the Camarilla were kept; Catherine wondered if she had stayed here whilst unconscious, before LaCroix had officially executed Joe in the Nocturne Theater and made the decision to spare her.

 

She supposed that when Capricia said he was at the end of the line, she meant he was at the very last cell at the end. That would give her more time to collect herself, at least, and Catherine knew she needed it. Her feelings towards LaCroix and what he had done were still complicated at best, but she knew that there was still  _ anger _ there, the kind of anger other Brujah had told her about. She was remarkably calm for one of their clan, like Nines was, but she had a hard time soothing herself again when her temper was sparked.

 

In the middle of the hallway she stopped, suddenly unsure of what she wanted to do when she saw him again. The initial plan was just to grab him and take him to the trial, but now…

 

Now she wanted answers.

 

Stepping in front of the last cell, Catherine saw Sebastian LaCroix sitting on the chair provided inside. It was nicely furnished, she noted, with a simple yet comfortable-looking bed, a lounge chair, and a bookshelf inside. She wondered how often it was that a prisoner of the Camarilla stayed long enough to enjoy those books.

 

LaCroix looked up at her as she approached, those blue eyes gazing into her own. The former Prince of Los Angeles didn’t look as though he’d been taking care of himself much the past few nights, if his rather rumpled clothes and his messy blond hair were any indicator. It was the first time Catherine had ever seen LaCroix’s appearance as anything other than perfectly composed and put together, and depending on how the night went, it might be the last.

 

There was a very real possibility that Sebastian LaCroix would meet his Final Death tonight, and the thought didn’t fill Catherine McCullough with vengeful glee like she hoped it would.

 

“Of course it’s you,” LaCroix spoke first, his hands folded together in his lap, “who else would it be?”

 

Catherine decided to say nothing, simply closing her eyes briefly before continuing to stare at him. If it made him scared, good. She owed him that much at least, after everything he had put her through.

 

_ Does he deserve to die, though?  _ Catherine wondered, and knew immediately what the answer of any of the Anarchs would be, as well as many in the Camarilla. 

 

LaCroix leaned back in his chair, neutral expression shifting into a glare almost immediately. “I’m certain this is quite a victory for you, isn’t it? After all, this is what you’ve been working towards all along. My downfall must be everything you’ve wanted since the night you were Embraced.”

 

Catherine glared back, folding her arms together. “What are you talking about, LaCroix?”

 

“You know full well what I mean!” LaCroix snapped, standing up and walking towards the cell bars. Catherine flinched lightly, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible. “Admit it, Catherine McCullough, you’ve wanted to see me fail since the moment I spared you! I thought it would be because of your sire - after all, the two of you were romantically involved. But now it’s clear to me that every step of the way, you’ve been biding your time, waiting to try and raise yourself as high as you could in this new life. And here you are now - the Camarilla’s new favorite, and all you had to do was betray the one who spared you.”

 

At that, the Brujah’s jaw dropped, disbelief all over her face. “What. Are you.  _ Talking about?!” _

 

“Need I say it again? Very well, I - ”

 

Catherine cut him off by slamming her fist against the brick wall, letting out a growl of frustration. “Are you  _ kidding me? I _ betrayed  _ you?” _ She stepped closer to him, looking at him with an expression that dared him to continue to argue.

 

“What else would you call conspiring with Strauss against me, after all that I’ve done for you?” LaCroix scoffed, crossing his arms.

 

“Let’s see, how ‘bout we call it going to someone in the Camarilla I could still trust, after  _ you _ set me up to make it look like I killed Nines?” Catherine retorted. “You think that I was trying to betray you this entire time? To - to step up higher in an organization that I didn’t even know  _ existed _ until the night that Joe sired me? That, that’s insane!”

 

“Your stammer betrays you, Catherine McCullough. Admit it - you’ve been looking to get into Strauss’s good graces ever since you got an  _ inkling _ of what the Kindred life was really like! Or better yet, in the good graces of  _ anyone _ that would help you be more than a sireless Fledgling!” LaCroix replied.

 

Catherine shook her head, mouth open in disbelief. “Getting into their good - how about just  _ trying to be their friends? _ How about trying to make friends in this new world, because I can never, ever go back to my old life? Or better yet, just trying to befriend these new people, because hey! You know what?  _ It’s nice to have friends.” _

 

“It  _ pays _ to have  _ allies.”  _ LaCroix sniffed, though he didn’t look as certain as he did before.

 

“You know what? Yeah, it pays to have allies. But that wasn’t - that wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when I talked to these guys, you know? Yeah, it crossed my mind, that it’d be nice to have powerful people who can help me back when I need help. But I didn’t think I needed that.” Catherine paused, brow furrowing. “You know why? Because  _ I trusted you. _ I thought… I thought you were on my side.”

 

“Catherine McCu - ”

 

“Shut up, LaCroix!” Catherine interrupted, gesturing with her hands. “Anarchs, Camarilla, I didn’t care about any of that! I made friends, and I liked the people I met, but they weren’t  _ you. _ I believed in you, you snobby moron! I thought you believed in me, and then I believed in you, and I wanted to watch you succeed! Everytime someone spoke against you, I defended you! When Isaac Abrams said I shouldn’t trust you, I told him I did!” She looked away from him, dropping her hands and clenching her fists. “I… I wanted to help you succeed. Because I thought, I thought you honestly wanted what was best for LA. Not just the Kindred, but the humans too. You wanted them to be okay as much as you wanted to uphold the Masquerade and protect the Kindred of the city, even though the Anarchs wanted you gone. Even though the Camarilla didn’t respect you. Even though the Kuei-Jin were moving in on LA and making things that much harder. I still wanted to watch you win, and prove them all wrong, because I was so sure that you were someone with the best of intentions at heart.”

 

The Brujah turned around, hanging her head. “I was wrong. Everyone was right about you all along. You really are only concerned with yourself, aren’t you?” He didn’t reply, and Catherine sighed, taking the beanie off her head and running a hand through her hair. “Let’s go, LaCroix. You have a trial to go to.”

 

She pulled the keys out of her pocket and reluctantly looked up at LaCroix again, finding the Ventrue staring at her with an unreadable expression. “Catherine…” He paused, brow furrowing. “You… I don’t understand.”

 

She laughed shakily, mirthlessly. “You know what? I don’t either.”

 

“Tell me then, Catherine. If I - if you and Mr. Rodriguez hadn’t encountered the werewolf - ”  _ But of course, that wasn’t his fault, _ she thought sarcastically, “then what would you have done?” LaCroix folded his arms. “Knowing what you did of the key, what would you have done?”

 

Catherine rose a brow. “Isn’t it obvious? I would’ve torn down the Kuei-Jin for you, fought Ming-Xiao to get you that key. I’d get your your Sarcophagus, and I’d look the other way if diablizering an Antediluvian was your goal after all. Or I’d help you lock the Sarcophagus away. Weren’t you listening when I said I wanted you to succeed? I wanted… I wanted you to be happy.” She sighed. “But it doesn’t matter anymore, LaCroix. You betrayed me - we’ve both made our choices.”

 

She unlocked the door to the cell and stepped backwards, ready to catch him with Celerity if he tried to escape. But he made no such attempts, merely walking in front of her in a calm and poised manner. Ready to accept his fate.

 

“We could have ruled this city, side by side.”

 

He said it so quietly that Catherine wasn’t sure she was meant to hear it. Yet she did, and she knew that if she were still alive, her heart would likely have skipped a beat. Fixing her beanie atop her head again, she followed LaCroix out of the hallway, and into the room where Capricia Atkins was waiting, where she would take them both to the court that would decide LaCroix’s fate.

 

\---

 

Catherine sat down next to Capricia and the Voerman twins in the courtroom, watching as Strauss and the other Primogen began speaking of the case against Sebastian LaCroix. He may have walked with a calm dignity, ready to face his fate in the cell doors, but here in the courtroom he still fought for his unlife with the weapon he had always favored - his words. Eloquently he spoke of his innocence, and why he should yet be allowed to serve the Camarilla with continued life instead of Final Death.

 

Strauss had told her that she would be called to testify, though it still made her nervous to go to the stand and speak in front of these Camarilla elders. She was, after all, still a Fledgling. One whose powers were considerable for one so young, according to Strauss, but still a veritable infant in front of adults by their standards. There was so much yet she still didn’t understand of the ways of Kindred society, but she felt that she was learning fast.

 

Catherine spoke honestly in her testimony, feeling that there was no point in lying about what happened. The Ventrue and the Tremere could force her to tell the truth if they thought she was lying, and anyway, what good would it do? She had skirted around the questions of the Kuei-Jin as much as she could, though, stating that it was only Ming-Xiao and two agents that claimed LaCroix had an alliance with them. And all of them were dead, with the two agents trying to steal the Sarcophagus and Ming-Xiao outright saying she wanted it as leverage. Their word couldn’t well be trusted, could it? And the murder of Alistair Grout was something Ming-Xiao outright admitted she committed, no need to mention that she and LaCroix conspired to do so.

 

She knew she didn’t want LaCroix dead, even though it was clear to her now that’s what he had been trying to do to her ever since he found out that Joe Kane sired her. Maybe it was the normal thing to want him dead, after everything, and if it had been someone else in her shoes that wanted a slice of vengeance, she wouldn’t be able to rightly blame them. But after everything, she ultimately couldn’t bring herself to want him dead. He was no longer a man atop a pedestal to her, an untouchable prince that had taken mercy on her and wanted to act as a surrogate sire to her. No, he was as flawed a man as any, one who had given into the Beast within that had taken a different form than usual. LaCroix was childish, petty, self-absorbed, and vindictive… and yet, she  _ couldn’t _ want him dead.

 

“One last question, Miss McCullough. We would like your opinion on the fate of Sebastian LaCroix.”

 

Catherine blinked, mouth opening slightly in shock. “I - you want my opinion?”

 

“Yes, Miss McCullough.”

 

She folded her arms, looking down at the ground. “Sebastian LaCroix tried to have me killed, it’s true. But obviously, he’s never succeeded.” A weak attempt at a joke, and one that gained no traction with the crowd. Catherine quickly continued, “Ladies and gentlemen of the Camarilla, Sebastian LaCroix yet showed me mercy when the law stated that I must die. His pursuit of the Ankaran Sarcophagus was clearly him giving into the Beast within, and it was a selfish gamble. But…” She paused again, clearing her throat and smothering down her nerves. “Despite it all, I think that his intentions were ones of helping the Camarilla, not hurting it. He has ever upheld the Masquerade and tried to make the Camarilla stronger in Los Angeles, which is hard to do when so many factions are fighting for it.”

 

Catherine felt the eyes of everyone in the room, and it was Strauss’s and LaCroix’s that she feared seeing the most. “I think… I think he deserves mercy. Not getting away with just a slap on the wrist, because he deserves punishment, but I don’t think he deserves Final Death. That’s… what I think.” Her courage was fading and she felt it, but thankfully, they seemed happy to release her from the stand.

 

She felt LaCroix’s eyes on her the entire time as she walked back to the spot next to Capricia Atkins, the Malkavian smiling at her oddly for the continuing duration of the trial. She tried her best to ignore it.

 

“For your crimes against the Camarilla, Sebastian LaCroix, you are sentenced...”

 

Catherine closed her eyes, waiting for the penalty to commence.

 

“...to the front lines in Québec City.”

 

She opened her eyes again, hearing murmurings around her.

 

“You are stripped of your title as Prince, and you are hereby banished not only from Los Angeles, but the United States of America as well. You will prove your loyalty to the Camarilla by assisting in reclaiming Canada from the Sabbat. Have we made ourselves clear?”

 

Catherine could hardly believe her ears, and judging from the look on LaCroix’s face, neither could he. He wordlessly nodded, blue eyes wide.

 

“Then this meeting is adjourned. Miss McCullough,” the Ventrue Primogen turned to her in the crowd, “you will escort Sebastian LaCroix to his cell once more, then report to Maximillian Strauss.”

 

Like LaCroix before her, Catherine could only nod wordlessly. Of all the ways for the trial to go…!

 

\---

 

“I don’t understand.” LaCroix blurted out when they were alone in the cell block hallway again, Catherine leading him back to his room.

 

“From my understanding, you’re going to be fighting a lot of shovelheads.” Catherine said dryly, hoping to deflect him from what she knew he would speak to her of.

 

Naturally, it didn’t work. “Why did you speak in my defense, Catherine? I don’t understand.”

 

The Brujah didn’t reply as she opened up his cell again, standing aside to let him enter. She stayed silent as she locked it up again, placing the keys back in her pocket.

 

She began to walk away again when he spoke up again. “Catherine!”

 

Catherine sighed, turning around to look at him in the eye. “I’ve shown you great clemency, LaCroix.” She said softly. “Prove it was more than a wasted gesture.”

 

This would be the last Los Angeles would see of Sebastian LaCroix, and it’d be the last Catherine McCullough would see of Sebastian LaCroix. Now it was time to put him behind her for good.


End file.
